Happily Ever After
by The Scarlet Sky
Summary: Mary has always dreamed of living in a fairy tale. But what happens when her wish is granted? And what happens when you realize some happy endings can't be reached by fairy dust alone? MFoMT. Gray x Mary, along with all MT canon pairings.
1. Chapter 1: Once Upon a Time

**Note: **_Guess what!_ You are in for a mega-fluff ride. Oh, yes, you are. Filled with clichés, cuteness, and canon fangirl…ism. I think this idea is just too funny and too cute to pass up, so…hopefully, you'll enjoy this as much as I enjoy writing it. Or you'll smack me upside the head for writing so much fluff. Ha.

**Another note:** In future chapters, they will be different people's POVs. But I'll only have one POV per chapter, and I'll be sure to mark it so you know who's talking.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. So you can't sue me.

**Happily Ever After**

_Chapter One: Once Upon a Time_

**As Told by the Librarian:**

Once upon a time. You've heard the words often enough. They've been the prelude to countless tales filled with damsels, princes, and happy endings. There's excitement, romance, and villainous plots packed between the pages of a fairy tale, and--if you're lucky--a hint of magic.

Compare that to the dull, uneventful life of Mineral Town.

Actually, compare that to _my_ life.

I was the girl reading those exciting stories, the girl waiting in her library for opportunity to open itself up to her like the pages of a book. I was the girl who dreamt of fantasy, but was jaded by reality. I was…well, I was Mary.

And sometimes, I wondered if that was enough.

"Closing time, Gray."

The blacksmith groaned, closing his book and shoving it into the nearest shelf. "Why do you always have to be so punctual? Would it kill you to let people sit here a few minutes longer?"

I smiled, dangling the key from my fingers leisurely. "You want to sit in this stuffy place on a hot summer's day? It must be a pretty good book, then."

"It's…interesting," he said at length, shrugging. "Some fairy tale thing."

"The Brother's Grimm?"

"Something like that."

I giggled, earning a reproachful look from the blacksmith. "What's so funny?" he demanded.

"Which story was your favorite, Gray: Cinderella and her pumpkin carriage or Snow White and her little dwarf friends?"

"…Are you making fun of me?"

His indignant expression caused me to laugh even harder, and as he became more and more flustered I attempted to stifle my giggles. Standing up, he exclaimed, "You _are_ making fun of me!"

"N-no, Gray, I—haha! No, I most certainly am not making fun of you," I insisted with a mock gasp. "How could you say such a thing?"

"…You smart ass librarian," he glowered, shoving past me towards the door. His fingers closed about the knob, and as he attempted to turn it, all he succeeded in doing was wasting about five minutes trying to open the closed thing. Amused, I watched on as he finally kicked it, and muttered darkly, "Damn door."

"Gray?" I jingled the keys. "You might need these."

"And you didn't unlock the door before now because…?"

Laughing once again, I placed it in the keyhole, turning it and opening the door wide. The blacksmith stared at me for a moment before starting forward, his hands in his pockets. He turned to me again, and cocking his head, asked, "You coming?"

My fingers toyed with my braid as I absently looked away, avoiding eye-contact. Down the path, I could see the figure of a blonde young woman coming into view, and I found myself stammering. "Well, actually, now that I think of it—I have to, uh, organize something, so--"

"What is it with women always changing their minds?" Gray groaned, pulling down his hat over his eyes. "Do you want me to wait for you?"

"Oh, no, I'll be fine!" I insisted, inwardly panicking as I saw the farmgirl perk up at the sight of the blacksmith. "Listen, I'm just going to go inside—"

"_Gray_!"

Too late.

A comical expression of surprise flashed across the blacksmith's face as the young woman leaped forward, embracing him in a large hug. Squeezing her arms around him, she exclaimed, "Oh, Gray, where have you been all day?"

"What the hell are you doing on my back?" he complained, pulling away her hands. "I've been in the library, alright?"

"The library?" A sneer made its way across her lips. "But it's so…_boring_ in there. There's just a lot of books, and it's dusty, and then there's that mousy little—oh, hi, Mary!"

Supposing that I should be grateful she noticed I was there at all, I pretended that I was happy to see her as well.

We're marvelous pretenders, Claire and I.

"How is the farm doing?" Gray asked, fortunately changing the subject.

"Oh, it's going just fine," Claire smiled. "Actually, I harvested some crops today—and oh, Gray, guess what?!"

She rummaged through her rucksack while Gray and I watched on, a bit puzzled and curious all at the same time. With a little squeal of delight, she pulled free a lump of shiny rock and held it forward, beaming. "Silver ore! I found it in the mine. Thought you could use it for something."

Gray took it from her cautiously, failing to disguise the pleased expression on his face. "Well, uh…thank you. I could definitely use this."

"I thought you'd say that," she grinned. Her blue eyes flickered from Gray to me, and suddenly her voice got a bit deeper as she said, "Don't you have somewhere to be going, Mary? Won't your mother be worried if you stay out too late?"

I bit my lip, and decided to return her subtle insult with a little smile. "Now that you mention it, Claire, I _do_ have some work to be done. If you'll excuse me, I have to be getting back to the library."

"Do you need any help in there, Mary--?"

"I'm sure Mary's a big girl, Gray," Claire interrupted, waving away his concerns. "She can handle herself. Are you on your way to the Inn?"

Gray cast her a dubious glance as she put her arm around his shoulder, and he shrugged it off. "That's the plan. Go home, hang out with the guys, and get to bed."

"Oh, that's so _droll_," Claire groaned, hands on her hips. "You need to liven up, Gray—let's go get some drinks and chill out for a while."

"I don't want—"

"Gray, you might as well," I shrugged, causing him to stare at me in confusion. "You're not going to do much else tonight, am I right?"

"Well—" Gray paused, and as he saw Claire's smile, sighed. "Ah, hell. Fine. But are you sure you're alright on your own, Mary?"

"I'll be fine," I assured him, opening the library door once again. "Really, go have fun."

His eyes lingered on for a moment before saying, "When you're done with whatever it is you're doing, you can always come on by the Inn and join us. It's not like we'll mind."

Claire's horrified expression clearly said that she _did_ mind, but Gray's question was surprisingly sincere. I found myself blushing a bit, fumbling with the knob.

"Oh, I—I don't know. I'm not much for drinking and all—"

"Then it's settled. Come on, Gray. Let's go before the best seats are taken," Claire insisted, tugging the blacksmith by the arm. He remained impassive, his blue eyes narrowing at me skeptically.

"If you're sure," he relented finally, "then you don't have to come. But if you change your mind, I'll be waiting, alright?"

I nodded, my mouth dry.

"Gray! Come _on_!" The farmer's shrill voice pierced the air, causing Gray to visibly wince. Her grip became stronger as she dragged Gray along—which I would have found amusing had it not been for the fact that Claire was the one doing the dragging.

Though the shocked expression on his face was priceless, regardless.

I retreated into my library, eyeing the shelves fondly. Stacked with countless tomes, they held the weight of an entire world—a world full of witches, princesses, knights, and other wondrous beings. Closing the door behind me, I crossed over to where Gray had shelved the fairy tale and pulled it free cautiously. A layer of dust from the wood below scattered about me, causing my throat to constrict in a series of coughing fits. Covering my mouth, I backed up, and to my chagrin, tripped over a three-legged stool and fell on my rump.

At least Gray wasn't there to see that.

Strike that—at least _Claire_ wasn't there to see that.

I adjusted my glasses, stood up, and smoothed out the creases in my dress. I looked about the room again—a small space with four walls, plenty of unsociable books, and unreachable worlds.

And it struck me that…it was a very lonely place.

Biting my lip, I picked up the fallen book form the floor and held it to the light, squinting to make out the aged printing. "Once upon a time," I murmured, smiling sadly.

Once upon a time. That's how they all begin. How all the journeys begin. They don't begin in libraries, and they don't begin in a blacksmith's shop, and they don't begin in a farm.

They begin in a land far, far away.

And little did I know, that was where my journey would begin as well.


	2. Chapter 2: Damsel in Distress

**Note: **Urgh…the beginning will drag out this chapter and next. But after that, FAIRY TALE GOODNESS! Oh yes. I'm excited. XD

_Chapter Two: Damsel in Distress_

**As Told by the Librarian:**

I like to think of myself as a practical person. But even practical people can enjoy a good fairy tale now and then, and even practical people can dream of true love.

Practical people do _not_, however, pretend to think that pushy blonde farmers will be willing to share their time with mousy little librarians.

Especially when a handsome blacksmith is involved.

But there I was, locking up the library and planning to start on my way to the Inn. Foolish, I know. Three is most certainly a crowd, and when one of the three is Claire, it's more like a battle arena.

I'm not much for wine or duels.

But I was bored, and I did want to see Gray, so off to the Inn I went.

I hadn't gone far—I had just begun to pass the Church, actually—when a shrill cry pierced the air. Blinking, I paused, glancing about me curiously. The sound rang out again, and for a moment I forgot about Gray and wandered about, my eyes scanning the area.

"Hello? Is someone there?"

Something rustled in the nearby bushes.

"Is someone there?" I repeated, bending down to hear better. "Hello? Does anyone need help?"

"AIIIIE!"

I figured that was a yes.

Parting the leaves, I froze as my eyes locked onto the source of the sound: a man small enough to fit in a watering can and dressed like on of Santa's elves.

I'm not joking.

His tiny dark eyes blinked at me from under a red cap, and he wiggled about as his sleeve hung upon a thorn or two. Dangling in midair, he sent out little shrieks of fear, and as I attempted to regain my composure, I shouted, "Would you please calm down!"

Startled, he did so.

"O-okay." I took in a deep breath. "Um…sorry. Are you—are you in some kind of trouble?"

"What do you think?" he piped back. "I'm stuck on this flower's thorn, and I can't get down! What if that dog finds me?"

"Dog?"

My thoughts strayed to Claire, and I inwardly scolded myself for doing so.

He nodded. "That dog—with the big ears, and those fangs, and it lives on the farm! It never leaves me alone—it chases me, and if it finds me out here, I'm a dead sprite!"

"Sprite? You mean, Harvest Sprite?"

As if this couldn't get any more confusing.

"Just get me down, please!" he begged, kicking about in frustration. "Help me!"

Obviously, one of two things was going on: I was either hallucinating, or I was about to save the life of some magical being that supposedly didn't exist.

At any rate, I unhooked the sleeve from the flower's stem and let the diminutive man down gently on the ground. Wiping the dust from his little outfit, he looked up at me.

"The sleeve ripped."

I shrugged. "Well, at least you're safe."

"That's true." A smile broke out across his petite face. "Thank you very much, lady. I owe you."

"Lady?" I blushed, somehow flattered by his choice of words. "Oh, no no no, it was no trouble at all! I just…it's not everyday you see a Harvest Sprite, so…I was a little bewildered, I suppose."

"A sprite knows how to honor kindness," he insisted. Further embarrassing me, he gave me a simple little bow. "Do you have any fields, lady?"

"Well, no," I admitted, adjusting my glasses.

"Any animals to be fed or brushed?"

"Er, not really. My mother's allergic."

"What do you have, then?"

I laughed to myself, the sprite still watching me in all seriousness. "I have a library."

"A library?"

"Yes, with books and such," I nodded.

"Who lives in a library?" the sprite questioned further.

My laughter stopped. Standing up, I flicked back my braid and started walking forward, the sprite skipping behind me determinedly.

"Who lives in a library?! Who lives in a library?!"

I continued forward, attempting to smother out his questions with humming.

It didn't work.

"Who lives in a library? Who, who?!"

"Mary lives in a library!" I snapped, turning on him. "Mary lives in a library, all alone, and Mary is sick of being pestered—"

"Alone?"

My tirade faltered at the sight of his widening eyes, sparkling in sympathy. "All alone?" he repeated.

"W-well, I have my parents, I suppose—"

"Mary's all alone?"

I bit my lip, and nodded slightly. "Yes…Mary is alone. All alone in her library."

Because certain blacksmiths and certain farmgirls were too busy to pay her a visit every day.

Though the farmgirls can just avoid the library altogether—Mary wouldn't exactly mind that. She'd rather like it, actually.

I flinched at the feeling of a squeeze around my ankle, and I glanced down to see the Harvest Sprite giving me a hug. "I don't want Mary to be alone."

My cheeks changing from a pale pink to a vibrant red in mere seconds, I stammered, "Oh, come now, I'm not _all_ that alone! Please, I'm not miserable or anything--"

"I'm going to help."

Completely puzzled, I cocked my head at him and replied, "How are you…?"

His little arms freed themselves from my ankle, and bobbing his head at me in a quick bow, he sped off, shouting, "Don't worry, Lady Mary! I'll help you!"

I watched on in confusion as the small figure ran off into the distance, fading from view.

Well, then.

Shaking my head and deciding it was best not to mention said encounter with a mythical being to anyone remotely sane, I continued towards the Inn briskly.

Lonely…how ridiculous. I was fine, just _fine_, on my own. I wasn't friendless; there was Gray, and…well, May and Stu sometimes stopped by…Karen always said hi at the Supermarket…Harris was pretty friendly…

I paused. Had the list ended already?

"Dear Goddess," I muttered to myself, "I _am_ lonely."

It gets pretty pathetic when only two people above the age of eight stop by your place, and one of which only wants to hit on your best friend.

But before my pity-party could fully commence, the Inn doors swung open wide, releasing a laughing young woman and a sighing red-head. I recognized them belatedly as Karen and Rick—and Karen looked quite out-of-sorts, if I may say so.

She _smelled_ out-of-sorts, for that matter.

"Hey, Mary!" Karen waved at me with a lop-sided grin. "I got…I got…new underwear today! Wanna see?"

"No, Karen, she doesn't," Rick admonished her gently. He cast me a glance and sighed. "Nine o'clock, and already she's drunk."

"I can see," I nodded, raising an eyebrow as she began to giggle.

"I'm not…I'm not drunk! Rick, you're so…you're so funny, Rick. Ricky, do you wanna see my new underwear?"

"…Let's get you home," he groaned, dragging the blonde off before she could further embarrass herself. "Mary? Be thankful you don't drink."

After watching that little scene, I honestly couldn't be _more_ thankful.

Actually, I was torn between which was more bizarre: saving the life of a magical creature or watching one of my friends being reduced to a complete and total idiot talking about her new underwear.

Definitely the latter.

I entered the Inn, surveying the rooms for any trace of my companion. There was Ann behind the counter, Duke drinking, Claire hitting on Kai, Manna talking—

Wait a second. Rewind.

Claire was doing _what_ now?

My eyes got larger and larger as they watched the two engage in a game of flirty winks and gestures…oh dear Goddess, what were they doing _now_--? And in public, really! Didn't she have any decency?!

"Oh, Mary! What a surprise to see you here," Ann beamed, waving at me from across the room. "Come on over here!"

Ann! Another person to add to my small list of friends. How could I forget?

I walked over, being careful to avoid eye-contact with the skank—I'm sorry, I mean the blonde young woman making out with Kai—and sat myself down at the counter. The waitress approached me, her eyes glued to the couple as well.

"A bit eager, isn't she?" the red-head commented, and I nodded.

"Just earlier she was…er…hugging Gray," I admitted, shaking my head in disbelief. "I don't understand why one guy isn't enough for her; what do you think Popuri will say?"

"She'll deny it, and Kai will deny it, Claire will deny it, and it will be all sunshine and roses," Ann remarked dryly. "I'm not too worried."

I squirmed in my seat, and realizing that the more I stared the more uncomfortable I would become, I tore my gaze away and looked at my friend instead. "Have you seen Gray?"

"Blacksmith boy? Yeah, he was here earlier," Ann answered, scratching her head in thought. "Yeah, he was with Claire."

Panic wormed its way into my heart. "They didn't--?!"

"No, they didn't," Ann assured me, laughing. "Claire tried, though. Persistent little farmer that she is, she tried. Gray got sick of all the flirting and whatnot and went upstairs about a half-hour ago. Frankly, I don't blame him."

I sighed in relief—something about Claire doing with Gray what she was doing with Kai just terrified me. Angered me. Made me want to act like a not-so-nice librarian.

But luckily, they didn't do anything of the sort, so I could happily continue being a nice little librarian. Which I'm rather good at.

"Mary?"

I looked up at her again. "Yes?"

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Ann asked. "This is just—well, it's so unlike you, staying up late in a bar. Is there something you want to talk about?"

"Well, Gray invited me to come," I explained. "He didn't want to be alone with Claire, I suppose. But now that's he's not here, well, I—I don't really know _why_ I'm here, actually."

Ann smiled. "No one's making you stay. I mean, I'd like it if you did, but something tells me you'd rather not sit here watching two people eat each other's faces."

"…Not particularly."

"If it makes you feel any better, she's been doing the same thing to Cliff all week. Well, not making out per-se, but she's been acting awfully touchy-feely, and it's freaking the poor guy out."

I grinned, and replied, "Jealous, are we?"

"Me? Jealous of that precocious little farmgirl, just because she knows how to make a broke traveler squeamish? Pfft. I thought you knew me better than that, Mary," Ann dismissed me, shaking her head decisively. "I mean, it's not like I'm dating him, like you and Gray—"

"W-what?"

My interruption made Ann blink in surprise. Hands on her hips, she exclaimed, "Oh, you _honestly_ expect me to believe that you're not dating? Mary, I'm not stupid. You spend way too much time with that boy. It's not normal for single guys to waste hours in a library."

"But…I mean…we're not…_are_ we?" I sighed, my head buzzing. "I don't know what we are—just friends, I suppose. I'm sure that's all he thinks of me, anyway."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Ann challenged, reaching down for a glass.

"How can I know, anyway?" I exasperated. "How am I supposed to figure out which grunt means what? Which smile means he's happy and which smile means he's happy because _I'm_ here? Which is drawing him to the library: me or the books?"

Ann slammed a drink on the counter in reply. Raising an eyebrow, I asked, "What is that?"

"Virgin strawberry daiquiri," was her reply. "A young man asked me to make sure a certain beautiful girl got it if she chose to stop by. It's an apology for leaving early."

I stared at the fruity drink, and clearing my throat, I replied, "A certain…beautiful girl?"

"Said she'd have lovely silky black hair, and it was a pretty safe bet that she wouldn't drink, so it'd have to be a virgin daiquiri. I think that description fits you pretty well," Ann smiled.

My heart pounded, causing my whole body to shake in disbelief. I could feel a lightness settling within me—a strange surge of unspeakable joy--and as it swelled, I could only squeak, "Are—are you sure it's him? This doesn't sound like Gray—"

"Pfft. Of course not," Ann agreed, rolling her eyes. "That blockhead couldn't romance a door knob, much less a girl like you. That's why he has people like me to stick romantic ideas into his pretty little head."

"So, you—?"

"I didn't do much, Mary," Ann assured me, leaning on the counter. "He said to tell you he left, and all I did was say, 'Do you want to leave a drink for the girl?' And he said yes. I don't know if it's obvious enough for a skeptic like you at this point, Mary, but I think he likes you."

He _likes_ me. He _likes_ me.

You know how you feel when you read the ending of a story? When the good guys beat the bad guys and the prince gets the princess and everything's all perfect and you just want to squeal in satisfaction? When it's so good that you want to reread it over and over until you can have that feeling of satisfaction forever?

This was a thousand times better than that.

**

* * *

TEASER**: Next chapter won't be Mary's POV. In fact, it'll be a character who isn't even IN More Friends of Mineral Town. Any guesses? 


	3. Chapter 3: Wishes

**Note: **Okay, so I haven't updated in a few weeks, and I apologize. Description is extremely hard for me to conjure in fics like this though, so it's difficult, and I hope you all bear with me. I'm working to improve.

(**Character Note**: If you have never played HM: DS, the Witch Princess is a bachelorette on the game. There's no evidence that she's the Harvest Goddess's sister, but they fight so much I think it's entirely possible.)

_Chapter Three: Wishes_

**As Told By the Witch Princess:**

I hate Summer.

Well, if you wore a long black cloak all year round, I guess you'd hate it, too. God, it's hot…and having all this frizzy hair on my head makes it even harder to bear. _She_ loves Summer, though. That annoying, oh-so-lovely Goddess frolicking in her pond just _loves _tanning in the Summer sun, just _adores _the sweet little beach festivals, and oh how _cute _Summer romance is.

Like I said, I hate Summer.

I didn't even _mean_ for anything to happen. I was just walking along the street, staring at all the townspeople in boredom and contemplating whether or not it'd be a good idea to cast a typhoon next week. Sure, big sis "Harvest Goddess" would hate it, but stirring up chaos was my specialty. Not _all_ goddesses can lounge about in lakes waiting for random people to throw flowers at us. Some of us have to stir things up a bit.

That's where I come in.

"Excuse me! Excuse me! Coming through, budum!"

Something tiny was bumping into my ankle, and I groaned as I turned to see a tiny midget dressed in red. Great. One of the Goddess's little lackeys.

Why didn't _I_ have lackeys?

"Watch where you're going," I barked, causing the guy to tremble a bit.

"S-sorry, budum. I'm in a hurry."

"Clearly." His little chest heaved up and down as he took in huge gulps of air; how long and how fast had he been running, anyway? "Off to do some work on a person's farm or something?"

"Ah, no. I need to see the Goddess about a favor." He fidgeted impatiently, waiting for me to clear his way. Too bad for him, I wasn't gonna budge.

"A favor? Well, aren't you bold," I replied dryly, crossing my arms. "Since when does the Harvest Goddess get ordered about by her little cronies?"

He shook his head, and tried to push his way around me. Unsuccessful, he answered, "_Harvest_ _Sprite_. I'm a Harvest Sprite, budum. And I need to help Lady Mary."

"Who the heck is Lady Mary?" I inquired, furrowing my brow. Each word he spoke augmented my curiosity further, and soon I found myself giving an impromptu inquisition. "What does she want with a Goddess, anyhow? And why would my sister waste her time on some girl during tanning season?"

Hands on his hips, the Sprite glowered at me and said, "Please let me see the Goddess, budum. It's urgent."

"Too bad. I'm not letting you through until I know what's going on."

With a little sigh, he plopped himself onto the ground, crossed his arms, and after a moment of thought, agreed. "Lady Mary saved my life. I had been outside—in the human village—when I decided to climb up to get a better view, budum."

"View?"

"Of the sunset," he explained. "I climbed up a flower stem, budum. But my clothes caught onto a thorn on the way down, and I couldn't get down. And that scary dog comes out at night, the farmer's dog. It's a monster, budum. Lady Mary helped me down, and I promised to repay her."

"Wait, wait. So you're promising some girl that the Goddess will help her out without even asking my sister first?" I interrupted.

Hesitating, he nodded.

"You're an idiot, you know that?"

The sprite opened his mouth indignantly, ready to bite back, but then changed his mind and said, "The Goddess wouldn't mind helping a lady in need."

"Yeah, sure. Says you," I replied, rolling my eyes. "What'd you promise the girl, anyway? Wealth? Wisdom? Power? Something stupid like that?"

"I promised her that she wouldn't be lonely anymore."

There was a pause. The little guy was staring at the ground, his foot drawing circles in the dirt path. I narrowed my scarlet eyes at him, and raising an eyebrow, remarked, "Well, _that's_ the _stupidest_ thing you could have promised her."

"What?!"

I cleared his way as I started forward, but there he was again, following me with his squeaky little cries. "What's so stupid about it, budum? What's stupid about not wanting to be lonely?!"

I frowned. That high-pitched voice of his was _really_ grating on me. Maybe I'd have to rethink having lackeys.

"For starters," I began as I continued walking, "there is nothing less satisfying than instant romance served a la magic. Come on, that's a freaking fairy tale cliché. Second, loneliness is a state of mind, not a disease. You can't cure it with a pill or something. You have to be content with where you are in life. For example, _I_ don't have a guy, and I don't want one. If I obsessed over being single, I'd be miserable. But I don't, so I'm fine. See?"

I turned to see his eyes glancing up at me, confused and dazed. "Can you repeat that, budum?" he moaned.

"Just…urgh! Never mind," I groaned, cradling my head in my hands. "You—gah, thanks, now I have a headache. See, I didn't even think us Goddesses could _have_ headaches. Congratulations, you're just _that_ annoying."

Ignoring my complaint, the persistent little devil latched himself to my left boot and clung to it as I stomped off. "But do you think the Goddess can help her?" he pleaded. "Do you think she could make Lady Mary happy?"

"I highly doubt there's anything anyone can do to make someone not lonely," I retorted hotly. "Now get off of me, you little leech."

I kicked him off of me, sending him to the ground with a little 'oomph.' Huffing crossly, he wiped the dust from his clothes and challenged, "I bet the Goddess could do it."

Once again, I was arrested mid-step by his words. Clenching my fists, I swerved towards him, saying slowly and deliberately, "What did you just say?"

"I bet the Harvest Goddess could help her," he piped up—rather boldly, I'd say, seeing as I could stomp him flat in seconds. "Even if you say _you_ can't, I know that the Harvest Goddess could. That's why I was looking for her to begin with. She could help Lady Mary. I _know_ she could."

Standing up, he sauntered past me, giving me a curt good-bye as he headed for the spring. I watched for a while, the teeny oompah-loompah proudly leaving me—the big bad mean and negative witch—in the dust.

_The Harvest Goddess could._

I smirked at how dignified his posture was—that stupid little grin plastered on his face, and the way his arms swung at his side. How confident the lackey was. Bold nuisance of a midget, I'd give him that.

_The Harvest Goddess could help Lady Mary._

So smug. Oh, he thought he was _so_ clever, didn't he, insulting me and then saying that my sister was better than me. Smarter than me. Freaking more important than me, as usual.

_The Harvest Goddess could help._

_Even if you can't._

"Hold up," I called, reaching him in mere seconds with my larger stride. His ears perked up, and cocking his head towards me, he listened as I continued, "There is no way in hell that my sister could help out your little friend. And there's nothing she can do that I can't do better."

"…What are you saying, budum?" he inquired, stopping in his tracks.

"I'm saying that I'll help you out, okay?" I shrugged, running my fingers through my frizz of blonde hair anxiously. "We'll get it over with fast enough. I don't have anything else to do, anyway. What, do you want my help or not?"

A grin broke out onto his tiny features, and he bobbed his head yes. "That would be great, budum!"

"Spiffy. So, where is this Mary person anyway?"

"In a library," he beamed. "All alone in a library."

* * *

"It's locked." 

I rolled my eyes at the sprite's obvious comment, and said, "I can see that. And it's really no problem; I can always unlock a door or two."

"So, why don't you, budum?" he prodded. "Open it, open it, open it!"

"There's no one in there!" I snapped irritably, his voice once again gaining that shrill fervor. "Look through the window. It's empty."

The sprite peered over the rim of the flowerbox in the windowsill, and mumbled, "Oh. It is empty."

"I think they're closed," I commented. "You sure she lives here?"

"Lady Mary said so, budum. Why would she lie?"

Oh, I don't know. Maybe to stay away from tiny freaks of nature that never shut their big mouths up?

Before I could reply, the sprite began speaking again, this time in both a fast _and_ high-pitched babble. "Over there! Over there! There she is!"

Walking down the path was a petite girl, her dark braid swinging as she took dainty steps forward. Intelligent blue eyes sparkled behind wide-rimmed glasses, and her hands swung empty at her sides. A very modest, very loose, navy smock covered her neck to toe, making her your stereotypical librarian chick. All she needed was a book in hand, and she'd be ready to ship off to cameo in some cheesy high school drama.

"Lady Mary, huh?" I remarked. I don't know if I'd use the word "lonely" to classify her. Her eyes had this dreamy look to them, and her cheeks were flushed—kind of like a love-struck little girl. Which, maybe, she was.

She passed by us and the library to a building right along side it—some cottage-of-a-house with the lights still on in the window. "She didn't see us, budum!" the sprite complained, sorely disappointed.

"Well, you're short, and I usually go about invisible to people anyway," I told him bluntly. "C'mon, let's follow her inside."

"But the door—"

"I've got it, okay?!"

Teleporting inside with my handy-dandy Goddess skills, I saw the girl—Mary, wasn't it?—talking to two boring looking adults. Probably her parents. One had a really stupid big-rimmed hat, and the other was a woman with a head of black hair.

"Where were you this evening, Mary?" the woman asked pleasantly. "Did you have a nice time in the library with Gray?"

Mary just blushed a bit, fidgeting nervously. "Oh, it wasn't a big deal, Mother. Actually, Claire stopped by and invited us to come to the bar—"

"Mary, you went drinking?!" the man exclaimed, suddenly intent on the conversation. "What have we _told_ _you_ about alcohol?" Oh, yes. He was _definitely_ her father.

"Daddy, n-no, it wasn't like that at all!" she protested, cheeks turning redder by the second. "Well, Gray and Claire did, but I only had a virgin daiquiri, and besides, by the time I came Gray had already left so I mostly talked to Ann anyways. Nothing…happened."

Huh. You'd think _something_ had happened after seeing her practically float all the way home smiling. But her parents didn't prod her further, and so the girl bade them good-night and went upstairs.

Did I mention it was ten o'clock? What normal twenty-year-old woman goes to bed at ten o'clock?

"All clear," I mouthed, cracking open the door a bit to let in my new side-kick. The sprite scurried in, and after closing the door as quietly as possible, we followed the librarian up the stairs.

Simple furniture stood in the simple room, where simple pictures adorned simple white walls. "Lady" Mary sat on one of the rigidly-made beds, a goofy grin on her face as she took down her braid and began re-braiding it once again.

"She doesn't look lonely," I observed skeptically. "Are you sure that--?"

"I promised her I'd help, budum! I can't break a promise!" the sprite snapped back.

Apparently, he'd snapped a little too loud, because the girl's head snapped up at the sound. "Hello?" she asked tentatively, letting go of her braid. Standing up, she repeated, "Um, is someone there? Hello?"

"Lady Mary! Lady Mary! It's me, budum!" The eager kid had already raced towards her, flinging his arms around her ankle and giving her a hug. "We're going to help you so you're not lonely anymore, just like I promised!"

She looked more stunned than anything, and pushing up her glasses, she stammered, "Oh, you mean you really meant--? Honestly, I don't think there's anything you can do. And right now, I'm not so sure that I'm really—"

"But she can help me!" he interrupted, pointing a finger at me accusingly. "She said she'd help!"

"I--I'm sorry, there's no one there," she admitted, staring straight through me.

Though I'd love to see how the midget would've handled me bailing on him, I forced myself to make myself known, and just gave a little wave and a, "Sup?"

Mary didn't look the tiniest bit surprised. I guess after discovering a harvest sprite in your backyard, everything starts to lose a sense of mystery. I would blame television, if I didn't know that there were only four channels here, none of which were PG-13.

She eyed me warily. "You would be…?"

"The Witch Princess," I answered simply. "So, I hear you've got loneliness issues."

A bit taken aback by my swift change of topic, the girl answered, "Well, I guess you could say that, but it's not so bad, really. No one can get everything they want, but lately I think that—" A blush lit up her cheeks once again, and she mumbled, "Well, I think it's a silly wish. To not want to be lonely, I mean."

"Elaborate," I commanded her.

She shrugged, and picking up the sprite into her arms, replied, "It's really not the smartest thing to complain about. It's the one thing you have control over—not like wishing to never have a disease, or to be able to stop something awful from happening, or to save someone from a bad choice they're about to make—"

"Someone's been reading too many dramas," I decided.

"Perhaps a few," she admitted. "I guess being lonely is sort of my own fault, you know? It's not like in fairy tales—where everything is magically set up so that the princess gets the prince with no trouble."

Bingo.

"What'd you just say?" I insisted, a brilliant plot spinning in my mind. A plot even my older sister couldn't have devised.

Mary blinked. "Um, I said life isn't like a fairy tale—"

"But what if it _could_ be?" I grinned, thrilled with how flawlessly perfect my plan was. "What if I could turn Mineral Town into a regular story of princesses, knights, dragons, and damsels? What would you say to that?"

The enormity of the question sat on Mary's shoulders for some time, and the sprite in her arms exclaimed, "Do it, Mary! Do it, do it, do it!"

"I…I don't know," she muttered, shaking her head. "I don't know if—"

Well, too bad for Mary. Because I, for one, knew that this plan was genius, and if anything was going to prove that I was better than my sister, it would have to be this. Besides, I'd promised the sprite that I'd help make Mary's life less lonely, right?

So when the room started spinning, the spell was chanted, and a huge void of color engulfed the three of us, no one could blame me for what I'd done without her consent. When Mary's face turned green from the swirling of the world around her, and the sprite clung to her for dear life, no one could say what I did without warning was cruel.

The ends justify the means.

And hey, if that means giving Mary a happily ever after, I've done my job.


	4. Chapter 4: Bippity Boppity Oops

**Note: **Whee! Off to the good stuff…I promise this plot won't let you down. There IS a plot, you see, and hopefully you'll enjoy it. Thanks for the reviews, and enjoy!

_Chapter Four: Bippity Boppity Oops_

**As Told By the Librarian:**

I don't believe there's anything more terrifying than being sucked into an alternate dimension. The books make it seem so pleasant, so magical—but my stomach was hurling and I was too dizzy to make out my hands in front of me. I'm not entirely sure how my two companions reacted, but for me the ride was a very bumpy one, and once gravity returned I was ready to cry with relief.

Instead, I took a look around.

"What…did you do?" I whispered, eyes widening. There was no library. There were no _books_, for that matter. Where the shelves had stood was now stone wall, decked out in intricate tapestries. By my side a mammoth canopy bed sat proudly alongside the doors to a balcony—one that could easily have been stolen from _Romeo and Juliet_. A large mahogany wardrobe was juxtaposed by a long full-length mirror, and I stared at myself dumbstruck. Still dressed in librarian attire, I seemed so out of place in this royal bedroom.

"Welcome to the Princess's Suite," the Witch Princess grinned, crossing her arms smugly. At least _she_ seemed pleased. The poor little sprite in my arms looked as if he were about to faint.

"It's so medieval…" I marveled, crossing over to the walls and fingering their cold surface. My fingers stroked them reverently, and I murmured, "Like in _King Arthur_… or perhaps _The Song of Roland_—it's incredible. How did you create all this, in just moments? How could you do something so unbelievably--?"

"It's a gift," she shrugged, obviously flattered. "Some people have it, others don't."

A low moan sounded from the sprite as he groaned, "Lady Mary…I need to lie down, budum."

"O-oh, of course!" I stammered. Sitting myself down on the mattress, I laid him down gently on the pillow and sighed. "So, does this mean…I mean, is this really…?"

"Your fairy tale?" the sorceress finished for me—a blessing, I suppose, seeing as I could hardly think straight. "You got it, sunshine. There's a prince, a princess, villagers, the whole enchilada. Maybe a dragon or two if you're lucky, but I have no idea if they're native to Ye Olde Mineral Town or not."

I leaned forward on the bed, propping my chin on my hands. "A prince?" I whispered, blushing despite myself. Oh Harvest Goddess, what on earth did I know about being a princess, anyway? About wooing a prince? And since when I had wished for this, anyway? Amazing as it all was, I wasn't sure if I could handle something so unexpected. So…impossible.

"You look depressed." The Witch Princess's accusation echoed in the room. "You're not supposed to look depressed, Mary. That's kinda the opposite reaction we were going for."

I rolled over in the bed, finding myself face-to-face with a snoring Harvest Sprite. Smiling at his tightly closed eyes and tiny little snorts, I mumbled, "Oh, depressed isn't the right word. Surprised, yes—in awe, yes—but not depressed. Disoriented, I suppose. Yes, disoriented suits me rather well right now."

"We weren't going for disoriented either." The satisfied smirk on her pale face had changed to a frown, and she paced the room, examining it anxiously. "What, are the tapestries too ugly? The bed too small? No, wait, do you hate stone walls? Are you claustrophobic?"

"I'm perfectly fine!" I exasperated, causing the Harvest Sprite to awaken with a startled yelp. "It's just…I mean…I'm not…royalty."

"You most certainly are _not_."

The Harvest Sprite hadn't spoken. Nor had the Witch Princess. And yet, this voice seemed familiar.

Too familiar.

Sharp, precise footsteps echoed on the stone floor, and I turned my head slightly, my braid sprawled out on the sheets. The first thing I could register was her blue gown studded in sapphires and then her fingers bejeweled with diamonds. My eyes searched higher, soon taking in a suntanned face with eyes mirroring the color of her dress flawlessly. Strands of golden hair fell down in curls from her perfect bun, and her lips were pointed into a frown.

"C-Claire?" I stammered, sitting up hurriedly. Her snarl deepened, and advancing forward, she brought her arm out accusingly.

"How dare you call your queen by her first name! Impudent peasant—and trespassing in my room! Who on earth are you? Guards! _Guards_!"

Too late did I realize another difference in the farmgirl's appearance.

The crown atop her head.

I scrambled off of the bed anxiously, stuttering as I did so, "I am so sorry—honestly, I just got lost, and the three of us just—we sort of--!"

"Three?" the queen scoffed.

To my horror, I turned to see there was no slumbering sprite upon the bed, nor a clever Witch whose magic would be _rather_ helpful right now. I was alone, cornered against a stone wall, in a world that wasn't even my own.

All because I chose to save a midget from a hungry dog.

"Cla—Your Highness!" I pleaded, racking my brain for possible escape routes. What happened now in the books, anyway? The prince jumps in and saves his damsel—oh, wait, _Claire_ was the damsel. The princess. Or was she the queen? I had _no_ idea what Claire was, actually, but whatever she was, she had guards and they were coming my way. "I'm terribly sorry to have bothered you, and I'll just leave without hurting anyone, I swear, so please call off your guards, it's really no trouble for me to—"

"GUARDS!"

So much for negotiation.

I glanced about the room frantically: Claire was throwing a hissy fit in front of me, guards were visible sprinting in the hallway, and I was backed up against a stone wall—wait.

The balcony.

I hate heights as much as anyone. In fact, I just might hate them more than your average Mineral Town girl. I couldn't even bring myself to climb trees—something the other girls, even Popuri, had done as a child. But now, I found myself stumbling forward onto a balcony—a dead end, with only one way out.

Dear Goddess, I'd only been in a fairy tale for ten minutes and already I was running for my life.

"What are you doing?!" Claire howled, for some reason content to wait for her guards to act instead of arresting me herself. "You can't go there—that's my balcony! _My_ balcony! You horrible little trespasser—GUARDS!"

Wind whipped about my braid, and I stared at the expanse of gardens below. The courtyard. I took in a gulp of air, the guards finally entering the bedroom.

This was insane. This was terrifying. This was _suicide_.

But this was a fairy tale, and like it or not, sometimes you have to jump a balcony or two to make sure you have another day to try and figure out your happy ending.

Assuming you make it safely to the ground, of course.


	5. Chapter 5: Jinx

**Note**: So onward with chapter five! And may I say: **This is ****not**** based **_**completely**_** off any real fairy tale. **It's an original fairy tale…er, well, with some common fairy tale archetypes. You get the basic idea.

_Chapter Five: Jinx_

**As Told by the Witch Princess:**

"That wasn't supposed to happen."

I paced the hallway, my black cloak flowing behind as I chewed my lip in thought. The annoying little sprite at my heels skipped along, huffing and puffing to keep up with my stride. "What happened, budum?"

"That blonde brat," I exclaimed, shaking my head. "She wasn't supposed to be…I mean, I thought I'd been specific…this is supposed to be Mary's fairy tale, right?"

"Right!" he agreed, missing the severity of my words.

"Then why isn't Mary the queen?" I questioned, crossing my arms. "Something's wrong. Horribly wrong."

I stormed forward—for what purpose, I didn't know. To figure out this crazy fairy tale I'd created, I guess. This wasn't Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty—this was a concoction my mind had created for Mary.

Er, make that Claire. My bad.

"So where is Mary, budum?"

I groaned and cast him a glare. "Look, I panicked. I need to figure out what exactly is going on, alright? And I can't do that while defending Mary every five seconds. She'll be fine…I'll fix this story up as soon as I know what's wrong with it."

He furrowed his brow at me, the asked, "But…what if she's hurt, budum?"

"Don't be stupid. This is a fairy tale. Someone will save her…it's bound to happen. Most likely a prince will save her. If not, well, er—" I shrugged off the question. "We'd better get looking. The faster I fix this, the better."

The sprite opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it and clung to my boot—to my horror, I was starting to get used to it now. "Let's go, let's go, let's go!" he cheered.

Where was a muting spell when you needed one?

I passed unseen by guards and knights, all of them rather generic and dull-looking. Shows how creative I am with details, huh? The stone walls were adorned by torches, the sole source of light in the passageways. A lush red carpet made up for the sparse décor, and statues stood guard at each door. Unlike the guards, they at least had personality—from gargoyles to mermaids to dragons and angels, the statue varieties were endless.

Ha! Bet my sister couldn't have done that.

Soon the monotonous sound of my feet against the floor was joined by a far more interesting noise: that of a conversation. Seeing as eavesdropping is a kind of hobby of mine, I walked forward and saw the two speakers. One figure was a familiar face. The only difference in Claire's appearance now was the opulent robe draped about her shoulders and the worried little pout on her face. The other was one of my uncreative knights, unfortunately; no one of particular interest.

Eh, at least the gossip was juicy.

"What do you mean you haven't found the peasant?!" Claire hollered; Mr. Knight cowered and averted his eyes from her glare.

"She—she jumped off the balcony, and that's all we saw!" the knight insisted. "No one has seen her—not your sister, not the knights, not any of the court, she's gone! Vanished!"

Claire tapped her chin thoughtfully, still seething, but trying to contain her rage. "Witchcraft," she decided, letting out the word with a disappointed sigh. "That explains how she made it into the castle: witchcraft. And how she escaped from the balcony; she must have flown, or teleported, or transformed—"

"Spirits, what are we supposed to do about a _witch_?" the knight squeaked—apparently I had been too lazy to add a backbone to their generic formula. "What if she's watching us right now, invisible or perhaps through a crystal ball--?"

"Don't be foolish," Claire scoffed, turning away. "Ghosts are invisible, not witches. And crystal balls are a myth."

Wooow. I had created a world where people actually believed in witches, and they _still_ had no clue how we worked. Kind sad.

I was still contemplating this when Knight 2.0 dashed into the room, panting, "Your Majesty! Urgent news concerning His Highness the prince!"

Immediately her frown vanished, and smiling, she replied, "Is he to come this evening?"

"He's a bit delayed, my Queen. At best, you can expect him by morning," he reported.

"_Delayed_?" Uh-oh, the frown was back. "Does our engagement mean _nothing_ to him? If he is to be a king, he cannot possibly expect to be so lax in his duties—his duty to me as his intended being his primary obligation!"

Geez. And I had thought midget-man here had a shrill voice.

"Your Excellency, he said he'd try to arrive soon--!"

"Soon isn't good enough!" she snapped. "I want him here, now, in less than an hour, or I'll---I'll--!" The incomplete thought finished itself with a frustrated scream, causing everyone present to hold their hands to their ears and pray that she'd shut up.

Hey, it was what I was doing, anyway.

She stomped and roared for a while before dismissing her guards with a sharp, "Leave me in peace! I don't want to hear this—get out of my sight!"

It didn't take ten seconds for them to do so.

She shook her blonde hair back and forth as she growled, storming off down the hallway. I knelt down and grabbed the sprite, hoisting him onto my shoulder and mouthing, "Let's go."

His eyes widened as he shook his head. "She scares me, budum," he whispered.

"Wimp."

The hallways kept twisting and turning, snaking through the castle and effectively killing my sense of direction. Finally, a stairway came into view, and as Claire hitched up her robes and descended down them, I did likewise. What's sad is I had no idea what lurked down there, and I was the one who'd _invented_ this place. I dunno, sometimes I think spells have a mind of their own…and this one had a sick and twisted one.

Surrounded by a semi-circle of candles, a man-made lake sat in the stone chamber—likely a dungeon no longer used for prisoners. The candles' light sparkled on the water's surface, and Claire stood before it, taking a single flower from within her robes.

"Spirit, spirit, in the lake," she chanted solemnly, "do my will and now awake. In all the land that I possess, who's the one with beauty best?"

What. A. Sucky. Poem.

But it worked, because as soon as that flower dropped into the water, a strange thing happened. The lake bubbled, light flashed, and a voice sang—a voice I knew a little too well.

"Holy...freaking…" I gasped, a glowing figure emerging from the watery depths. Green hair braided over her shoulder, the woman smiled sadly at the queen, whispering a greeting.

Then her eyes locked on me.

And let me tell you, my sister was _not_ happy to see me.

"Who's the one with beauty best?!" Claire repeated, quite irritated that the Goddess was staring into space—namely, at myself—instead of basking in the blonde's royal glory.

Blinking, the Harvest Goddess shook her head, murmuring, "Ah, you, my Queen. Sorry. I thought I saw _something that shouldn't be here_." The last few lines were forced through gritted teeth, her eyes flashing dangerously at me.

Way to be subtle, sis.

"There is a peasant roaming the castle," Claire explained with a sigh. "We believe she's a witch, because she jumped from a balcony and survived."

"Really, now?" the Goddess replied, seething at me.

"But I do not wish to speak of this distressing matter," Claire sighed, waving it away with a bejeweled hand. "Rather, I want you to do something for me."

"Anything, my Queen," was the wooden reply.

Claire played with her earring, explaining, "My fiancé is supposed to be here this evening…but tragically, he cannot make it on time."

"That is indeed a tragedy, my Queen."

"So I simply must implore you to hasten his return to me, by whatever means necessary," the blonde instructed my sister—a tad harshly, I'd say. The Goddess winced, but nodded, her shadow bobbing in the candlelight.

"Your will be done. He shall be here before midnight."

A satisfied smirk played on the royal pain's face, and giggling with glee, she exclaimed, "Excellent. You never fail to disappoint, fairy godmother. You're the only person I can rely on in this entire castle of idiots."

Claire being a prime example of said idiots.

The Queen walked off smugly, and once the door slammed, my sister crossed her arms.

"Well? Care to give me an explanation?" she snapped.

I laughed. "_I_ need to explain things to _you_? Why on earth are you letting some bratty human order you around like a servant?"

Apparently I'd struck a nerve; blushing furiously, she replied, "I'm that brat's fairy godmother. I'm _forced_ to do whatever she pleases. What I would like to know is _why_. More specifically, why one day I wake up, and suddenly my very peaceful, very tranquil Mineral Town has been transformed into some sort of medieval experiment!"

Anger didn't really suit her that well. That pulsing vein throbbing on her otherwise perfectly angelic forehead and that snarl etched on those perfectly shaped lips cast a darker shade to her normally bright and beautiful appearance.

"Chillax, would you?" I groaned, crossing my arms as well. "I'm just trying to run a fairy tale shtick for a little while."

"May I have the pleasure of knowing _why_?" the Goddess hissed.

The sprite on my shoulder suddenly became bold, and standing up, he announced, "Because Lady Mary was lonely! And she needed our help!"

My sister blinked. Stared. Then blinked again. "You mean…" she whispered, a little nervous laugh emitting from her throat, "you mean to say that you turned Mineral Town upside down because you thought Mary was _lonely_?"

"Uh…basically."

"Well for your information, I can run my village by myself!" she snapped. "I'd already planned for Mary to meet her special someone, to have that romance she'd been craving, and now here you go and twist everything because you think I'm not moving fast enough! Honestly, what do I have to do, make a wedding every other day to please you people?!"

Silence. I pointed to the sprite balanced on my shoulder and said, "It was his idea."

"I don't care whose idea it was! _You're_ going to have to fix this!" my sister fumed. The water below her began to crash in a series of angry waves, reflecting her attitude pretty well. "This whole thing is a mess, and I can't even fix it, because I've been assigned as nanny to a blonde little loudmouth by my bumbling, fumbling, baby sister!"

"Whoa, that's kinda harsh—"

"Well, what you did to _me_ was kind of harsh!" the Goddess growled. Yeesh. Not very flattering on her melodic voice, either. "Now go out there and do something to fix this—I have no idea what you can do about it, but do it!"

Stunned silent, both the sprite and I managed simple nods. Relaxing a bit at our humble reactions, the Goddess eased herself down into the pool of water, sighing. "Let's start with baby steps. Where did you leave Mary last?"

I swallowed a lump in my throat. "Uh, Mary?"

"Yes. Where is she?"

I nudged the sprite, but he was quaking so much he couldn't have said anything if he tried. "Well…" I began, scratching my head. "She was with Claire…"

"Yes?"

"And…now she's not." A nervous laugh. "She jumped off a balcony. Crazy thing to do, right?"

My sister gave me long hard look, then joined in my hollow fit of laughter. "Ahaha, she jumped off a balcony?" she replied, her false mirth cutting through me like knives. "Crazy indeed. Almost as crazy as _leaving her unsupervised in this twisted world a half-wit witch concocted!_"

Yeah, I quit laughing.

"Now go find the girl before something else goes wrong—what next, Elli doing a trapeze act on the tower?" she groaned. "Go get her. Figure this nonsense out. And do it fast! Do you hear me, little sister?! Go!"

And just like Claire's knights, I didn't have to be told twice.


	6. Chapter 6: Lady Landing

**Note: **Hey look! It's alive! Sorry I left you all hanging…ha. Been busy with another fic. I'm sorry. But my cousin made me feel bad about leaving this story like this, so here we are! Feel free to throw things at me for taking so long. (ducks)

_Chapter Six: Lady Landing_

**As Told by the Librarian:**

"Young lady, I wish you'd think next time before you decide to hop off a balcony."

I blinked my eyes open owlishly; to my surprise, I could only see in vague blots of color. Sitting up indignantly, my hands flew to my face, and to my dismay I felt no glasses upon my nose. "I can't see," I moaned.

A tall white blob came towards me, hands outstretched. I flinched as he came close, but I suppose I was just being paranoid, because soon the familiar weight of my spectacles appeared on my nose, and the world became clear.

"Better?" The man smiled at me, and immediately I recognized his white garb for what it was: a doctor's coat. In fact, I rather recognized the way his dimples showed when he smiled, and the way his mop of black hair got in his eyes, and that deep voice—

"Doctor Tim?!"

His eyebrows knitted together in puzzlement, and he crossed his arms. "Have we met?"

"B-but of course we have!" I protested. "Elli introduced us when she first started working with you. And once you started dating—"

"_Do you know what you're saying_?!"

His hands slammed against the side of my bed--some hospital cot, I supposed--and his once laughing expression had turned frantic, eyes wide and face tinted red. Stunned, I folded my hands in my lap, and murmured, "I'm sorry…"

"How do you even know about that?" Tim whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. "We never told anyone…do you have any idea what that could mean if someone heard you?"

"I'm sorry!" I squeaked, blushing a bright shade of red in embarrassment. "I had no idea it was so secret…I didn't mean to do anything wrong."

Strange. Back in Mineral Town, no one had objected to their dating. Rather, it was the opposite: everyone from Lillia to Ellen had fought to set them up (which was no easy feat, Manna assured me, because both of them were rather dense about matters of the heart). In fact, Gray had told me that he'd never seen the doctor so awkward as when Elli first planted a kiss on his cheek; Gray had been an unfortunate bystander placed there by the fate of his daily checkup, and had complained to me about for the duration of the season.

So why…?

"No, I—I should be sorry," Tim muttered, sighing. He sat himself down in a desk chair, and continued, "I don't think you're working for the queen. If you were, then I suppose the whole castle wouldn't be turning itself inside-out looking for you. You're the witch, correct? The one who 'flew' from the tower." A smile crossed his lips. "I must say, two feet isn't a very impressive distance. Especially when the tower's only nine feet off the ground."

"Nine…feet?" I repeated. Had that really been the whole distance? But it had seemed so much higher when I jumped, so much scarier as I fell towards the ground—

Wait a moment. "Did you just say I'm a witch?"

His laugh echoed through the room. "I don't think you're a witch, miss. Though it'd be easy for me to dismiss you as one simply because you knew about my…_relationship_ with Elli."

There it was again: that bizarre hedging of such an ordinary topic.

"Doctor…?" I cleared my throat, and he cocked an eyebrow at me. "Um, that is…I mean…why can't Claire know about you and Elli?"

I'm not sure how to describe the expression on his face when I said that: confused, sympathetic, stunned, or maybe a little bit of all three. He glanced back at the closed door once more, then towards me. "First of all, I'd like to know how you know the queen's name. Second of all, I want to know why you know her name, but have no idea why this situation is so grave."

I swallowed a lump in my throat. "…I asked first."

"Touché." He rubbed his chin in thought, giving me a quizzical glance. "I'm the queen's royal physician. As such I understand much of what goes on in this castle—more than you do, and more than those peasants outside these walls." A pause. "Have you met Elli?"

I wasn't sure how to respond to that question: yes, but in another dimension? "Maybe once," I conceded, hoping I was being vague enough.

"So you know that she's Claire's sister?"

He might as well have said that books grow on trees. Though I suppose since the paper comes from the tree, then one could say that—

My, I get off-topic easily, don't I?

"No, actually," I managed to reply.

"Well, they're step-sisters, actually," the doctor admitted. "Elli's mother and father were the previous rulers—but then, of course, the queen died and her father married another woman, one who also had a daughter from a previous marriage. That woman was Claire's mother."

I listened, engrossed to this tale coming from Tim's lips: a stepmother, a stepsister, and a forbidden love. The Brothers Grimm would have been pleased.

"At the time, there were three heirs to the throne: the crown prince, Elli, and Claire. An accident in the royal carriage killed the good king and queen, and the prince disappeared. From the position of the wreck, it'd be safe to say he fell into the ravine below. At any rate, that was all a long time ago, and ever since, Claire has ruled."

"But why?" I persisted. "Shouldn't Elli--?"

"That's just it. Elli _should_ have been ruler." He looked away from me, eyes narrowing. "Claire was older than Elli, and she was an adult. She used that claim to gain the throne, saying she had more experience. Elli had complete blood rights, however, so Claire did one more thing to ensure her of the throne: she got engaged."

I raised an eyebrow. "Engaged?"

"If she were the first to marry—and she married a handsome, well-liked, sufficient prince—then that would make her rule more valid and more acceptable. If Elli wasn't married, and Claire was, then that would basically gift-wrap the throne for her." Another pause. "There has yet to be a single queen to reign our kingdom without a king by her side."

"So that's why you won't say anything?" I whispered. "Because Claire--?"

"Will feel threatened. Exactly." He cradled his head in his hands and groaned. "Princess Elli isn't even interested in taking the throne. She's far too content, saying she's lucky that her sister even lets her work by my side as a nurse. She's such a sweet, intelligent girl—it's such a shame. Out of the two of them, I'd say that the better queen would be…well. I'd think it would be obvious."

I nodded in agreement. Claire may enjoy bossing others around, but when it came to understanding those around her, she left something to be desired. Someone like Elli who enjoyed helping others, who struggled to solve others' problems, would be a far better queen than someone self-seeking like Claire.

Though I guess Tim and I both had our biases for thinking this way. The way she treated Gray doesn't exactly help her case for me any.

"And you?"

"M-me?" I stammered.

"What's your story? I think I deserve to know, since I've kept you hidden here from the guards," Tim accused, staring at me thoughtfully. "Are you from another land?"

What was the heroine supposed to do in this situation? Wasn't this the part where I came up with a magnificent lie, masterfully told and spellbinding those who heard it? I'd read all the books. I could do this. I knew I could.

"I'm sorry, I didn't even mean to come here, but this witch felt bad for me because I was lonely, and zapped me here in the castle, but where I'm from there's another Doctor Tim and another Elli, and everything's nice and normal there, but I'm just a librarian, and I'm sorry but I really have no idea what's going on, and I really wish I'd never told the harvest sprite that I was lonely, because everything is becoming such an awful mess and I'm so confused and—"

"Sounds like you hit your head a little harder than I thought," the doctor whistled.

Well, my lie hadn't exactly been a lie, but at least Doctor Tim wasn't asking any more questions. He scratched his head, then decided, "Tell you what. I'm going to get you out of here."

The obvious question to that was _how_ was he going to do it, but I kept my mouth shut and let him continue.

"There's a man whose wagon comes once a week to the castle—the queen is an avid patron of his business, and he should be here at the castle as we speak," the doctor explained. "In about an hour, he'll be leaving—and if I talk to him, I'm certain he'll help you escape. You can hide in the back, under the blankets. He'll take you straight to the village, and I'm sure you'll figure out what to do from there. Any place is safer than the castle at this moment."

"Th-thank you," I whispered, a little shocked by my luck. This truly was a fairytale; how often did fate arrange things in such a serendipitous fashion? "Um, so who is it that will be helping me--?"

"He's a blacksmith," Tim answered. "His name's Gray. Do you know him?"

How often were things so serendipitous, indeed?


End file.
